


That sweet face you make

by MangaBitch



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arguing, Autumn, Begging, Bisexual Male Character, Blue Eyes, Blushing, Boners, Bottom France (Hetalia), Boys Kissing, Car Sex, Cars, Childhood Sweethearts, Claiming Bites, Cold Weather, Comfort, Comfort Sex, Conversations, Cute, Day At The Beach, Desire, Dirty Talk, Don't Like Don't Read, Driving, Dry Humping, Embarrassment, England (Country), Established Relationship, Exhaustion, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, France is Bisexual, Frustration, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Headcanon Accepted, Heart-to-Heart, Holding Hands, Hot, Hot Sex, Human Nations | Countries (Hetalia), Humor, Humorous Ending, Husbands, I Don't Even Know, I Ship It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Inner Dialogue, Internal Monologue, Intimacy, Jeans, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, Long Hair, Long-Term Relationship(s), Love, Love Confessions, Loving Marriage, M/M, Marriage, Married Couple, Married Sex, Masturbation, Mild Language, Mild Smut, Moaning, My First Smut, Nature, Nicknames, Nudity, OTP Feels, Ocean, Old Married Couple, One True Pairing, Passion, People Watching, Pet Names, Pillow Talk, Playful Sex, Possessive Behavior, Punk England (Hetalia), Quickies, Reflection, Reminiscing, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Same-Sex Marriage, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Seduction, Sex in a Car, Sexual Tension, Smoking, So Married, Staring, Surprise Sex, Talking, Teasing, Tender Sex, Tenderness, The Author Regrets Nothing, Top England (Hetalia), Undressing, Vanilla, Yaoi, bring tissues in case of nosebleeds, ukfr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26875990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangaBitch/pseuds/MangaBitch
Summary: Francis and Arthur go for a long drive to the beach, travelling back to their shared home. Enjoying the night air and the company of their lover. But England decides he wants to have a little fun in the car
Relationships: England & France (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	That sweet face you make

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't enough bottom France in the fandom, you're welcome

England kept his gaze fixated on the dark road absentmindedly, tapping his finger on the steering wheel. The low sound of music playing in the background as ambiance, making the journey less tedious and filling the emptiness of silence. As the days antics began to weigh down on their bodies they found themselves at a loss for words but content in each others company. Driving along a dark country road that would lead them home, having been out on a day trip to the coast for the day. Arthur had suggested they leave the house for the day, exploring away from home to venture around his nation to have some fun. Living in the city was often loud and obnoxious, people rushing around and constantly busy. Going to the quieter parts of his nation was often relaxing and welcoming. Being able to cut off from everything familiar for a while. It was a lovely sight around this time of year, many of his citizens visiting the coast for photos and memories. Autumn now falling upon his country, the misty mornings, the darker mornings, the changing of the leaves, the collection of conkers, blackberry picking and many other traditions that came with it. His culture when it came to Autumn greatly differed from America's traditions of pumpkin patches, pumpkin pie and other such matters. Autumn was a quieter time of year for him, while America loved to have fun. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but when it came to America, overbearing was often a common occurrence. Then again, he was very much a child at heart. The scent of the salty sea air reminding him of the pirate years of his youth, of the days when the ocean had been his home. Back when he and Spain had been at war, when he travelled the world conquering and gaining colonies. During what he called his golden years, but now that time of his life was now in the past. He was a different man but the memories still remained in his heart and mind. The cold autumn breeze chilling his cheeks, the sound of the ocean echoing in his ears, a truly comforting place. Seaweed and moss clinging to rocks, barnacles and hermit crabs wandering across the sand, the call of seagulls as they soared through the air. Making his heart swelling with a sense of pride.

France had to tie his long waves into a ponytail, which prevented his hair from blowing into his face. England had tried not to laugh when France was often blinded or cut off mid sentence by his hair when he tried to speak. The wind current was often stronger near the ocean, forcing him to use a hairband to keep his hair in place. But then again he should do so more often as it truly suited him, not many men could pull of a ponytail so well. But it had been a truly romantic day out, being able to walk across the sand, explore and share conversation. Purchasing ice cream, watching families play on the beach, fellow couples walking hand in hand, dogs playing in the ocean. Then heading to a nearby cafe for dinner to fill their aching bellies near the end of the day, England hadn't packed a picnic. Intertwining their hands as they roamed across the sand, admiring the view, gazing out into the distance that stretched out for eternity. Talking for hours, skipping stones and having carefree fun, allowing them to escape and share some peace of mind.

England was concentrating as to avoid a crash, his beams on bright to illuminate the road. Roads could be risky at this time of night, all sorts of nocturnal animals would be wandering about. Chances are one may jump into the road, there was a reason there was signs for deer on motorways and public roads. Though an unpleasant thought it was always a possibility. He didn't want to get into an accident, endangering himself and his husband. Besides enjoying a nightdrive was peaceful, being able to share your feelings with others more comfortably and simply enjoying the moment.

France sighed wearily, though exhausted today had truly left him content "Angleterre, I often forgot about how lovely your country can be. Despite being such a small nation" he teased. However, he carried a lot of history and lovely landscapes that were truly photogenic, that was something he should carry great pride in. Many tourists fixated on the glamour of London but that left them ignorant to other beautiful places such as the lake district and other beautiful places in England's nation. There was more to him than people realised.

England scoffed, after such a romantic day together was he truly attempting to pick a fight? Though he was more than used to France's insults, able to hold his own in a fight. He wasn't in any mood to bring such a negative tone to the end of their date. "Don't try picking a fight frog, I don't want you ruining my good mood" he warned defiantly. Perhaps he should have pushed him in the ocean to teach him a lesson, he was trying very hard to control his temper and not get carried away. But that didn't mean he wasn't considering teaching him a lesson, he would be walking home if he kept that behaviour up.

France smiled fondly, how cute England was when he got mad. He knew England was adapted to being the butt of other nations jokes, but this time he was being sincere with his words. He had known England since they were children, he deeply admired him in many ways. "I mean it mon cher, your nation is truly full of surprises" he replied. He was a small nation compared to others, yes, but he still had historical architecture and many other traditions imprinted in history that he should feel proud of. Many people flocked to England's seaside towns for country holidays, quiet trips to be somewhere peaceful and rustic. There were photographers who accumulated pictures of his nation to reflect his personality. The ocean had inspired people for generations in different ways.

England chuckled in amusement, he may have been smaller in size compared to others,but he harboured a lot of culture as a nation that compared to others would feel strange. But he didn't appreciate being demeaned because he wasn't as flashy as other nations at times. Every nation was different, every nation had their flaws but he didn't appreciate being the butt of everyone's jokes "I guess that's why you love me" he hummed. After all there had to be a reason for France to still love him all these centuries later, as the proud nation of love.

France laughed softly, though England loved to self deprecate he had a rich personality and plenty of odd habits that France found endearing. How he grew roses in his garden especially for France. How he could still strum a guitar as elegantly yet powerfully as he did during his Punk faze and just when he was feeling nostalgic. The small and simple things that made his heart flutter like a bird. Untying his hair from his ponytail to allow his waves to tumble past his shoulders comfortably. Turning on the heating to warm up the car, the weather was getting cooler these days. Though the autumn was beautiful to behold, in all its wonderful colours, it was indeed very cold. Causing everyone to lock themselves away inside to protect themselves from the elements.

England peered at France from the corner of his eye, feeling as smitten as the day he had met France as children. His fragile heart afraid to trust others had accepted him and found contentment with France, despite their differences. They had always been drawn to each other, soulmates in every sense of the word. He knew France loved to boast about himself and as much as England argued with him, France was correct. He was truly a beautiful man, the love of his bloody life, the two of them were childhood sweethearts after all. All these centuries later and he still found himself acting like a schoolboy in love, gazing into those blue orbs and placed under a hypnotic spell for which there was no cure. Francis smelled like fresh roses, covered in morning dew and flowering in a hidden garden for which only he had the key. Sea air and musk, the scent of the ocean still clinging to his skin, as if he had stepped from the ocean itself and grown legs like a mystical mermaid from legends. He could feel himself getting hard already, the blood rushing to his core like a wildfire. But he couldn't help himself, his body was just so honest when it came to his feelings, France just looked so damn sexy. But there was no need to hide his urges, it was an act of nature after all, scent was a powerful thing. How could he not become aroused around the man he loved when he was so perfect? It was late, there wouldn't be anyone around at this time of night, nobody could disturb them, they were breaking no rules and their phones were on silent so nobody could call. Nobody could ruin this moment, there would be few cars driving around so late. Everyone was cuddled up warm and safe in their homes, sheltering from the cold and preparing for bed before a new day began.

He just wanted France so badly, desperate for a taste, he needed to feel his soft skin, intertwine his fingers in his soft blonde waves. Run his hands across his body and mark every inch of him. He knew that the longer he held back, the more obvious his feelings would become leading to something embarrassing. Why shouldn't he want to have sex with his husband? "To hell with it" he growled, once the fire was lit nothing could douse its flames. But he was prepared for if someone did get nosy, he would just lock the car so nobody would be able to get in. He was no newbie when it came to cheeky sex when stranded in the middle of nowhere. He wanted to fuck his husband. He pressed his foot harder on the ignition, with this new fuel in his soul nothing would be able to keep him from what he wanted. This new goal he had to achieve to complete the most wonderful day. A romantic day out of sharing each others company, ended with sharing their love for each other. They could sit in a layover for a quickie, that way they wouldn't have to worry about sitting in the middle of the road. Nobody would know about it anyway, it was another little secret they could reflect upon between each other.

France blinked in surprise as Arthur sped up, not that he minded, he was more than used to England's strange antics. But he didn't understand what the rush was, they had nowhere to be and no work to worry about in the morning. The two of them could simply spend their carefree hours together blissfully. So just what had England suddenly become so impatient about? England knew all of the roads of his nation by instinct, there was no possibility of them becoming lost "Angleterre?" he asked hesitantly, he deserved some kind of explanation as to why his mood had abruptly changed.

"I'm horny and you look delicious" England replied indignantly, yes he knew he was acting less that gentlemanly at the moment but that didn't matter. He wasn't ashamed to confess this statement. France didn't need to seduce him to make his heart sway, France was the forbidden fruit that would always tempt him. He wasn't in the mood for France to tease him about this, he didn't want to get into an argument.

France blushed, stunned into a state of silence, it was a rare moment England could admit to something so embarrassing or perverse without being a Tsundere or denying it. For him to be so bold was a rarity, often unexpected unless it was behind closed doors when they were alone. He knew England was the perverted ambassador, he was more than used to the fact that England had a strong sex drive. There were few kinks and interests that England didn't have or wasn't interested in "Oui, that makes sense" he mumbled. They could go somewhere private.

* * *

France and England kissed passionately, their lips locked as they fought for breath. The sweet taste of their lips addictive, France tasted like fine wine, honey and roses; England tasted like tea, apples and wine. Unable to pull themselves from one another, heavy gasps of desire and desperation escaping their lips, hungry for each other. They were able to rile each other up so easily, their chemistry still remained as strong as ever. Their marriage spanned centuries and unwavering, though England had previously fought against the idea, now that he reflected on it, he had made the right decision. England had pulled the passenger seat back, leaning it into a downward lean, pullback position, it was comfier that way for them both. Meaning they didn't have to clambour into the backseat and somehow find their way back afterwards. He was practical and concocted this plan expertly to the utmost convenience for them both. So they could have a little more fun without the consequences.

France was straddling England, sitting comfortably on his husband's lap and pressing his body against England's. His long blonde waves tumbling over his shoulders, his beautiful blue eyes hazy with desire. His body was stirring with sensations, his heart fluttering like a bird while his body was singing with happiness. His brain screaming with silent joy at being devoured by his husband. They were dry grinding with desire for each other. England cupped France's ass playfully, though he denied such accusations England indeed was an ass man who could appreciate a soft bottom. The scent of roses had become stronger, filling the air like an intoxicating perfume. He was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted, nothing could compare to this. Squeezing France's ass lightly making him shiver against his touch. France cupped the back of England's head as they kissed, gripping the back of the seat with the other in an attempt to stabilize himself. Sometimes dating the perverted ambassador had its perks, it certainly made their sex life more entertaining. There was never a boring moment between them and he always felt satisfied by England's touch. Knowing exactly what he liked, how he wanted it and just how to make him beg for more.

England undid France's belt and pulled down his zip, making sure to get rid of their pesky clothing keeping him from the prize beneath it all. The silky smooth skin, France's fuzzy chest hair, how perfectly formed his body was, the nation of love indeed. He was skilled with his hands too, though it had given him a reputation, which was why he was so good at sowing, gardening, flower arrangement and other methods. But right now France wasn't complaining about it in the slightest. Undoing his belt and trousers as they were becoming painfully tight "You smell so sweet love, I could just eat you up" he teased. He felt France shudder as he spoke those words, knowing he was doing something right.

* * *

England had removed his jacket, tossed into the backseat of his car as it had become a hindrance. They could worry about finding them later when their passions had been released. Wearing his shirt which was unbuttoned all the way to make things more comfortable, having undone his jeans to release his penis. France was gripping the seat like a vice, his head bowed so only England could see his expression privately, his face flushed red as a beautiful rose. His blue eyes glassy and reflective like a mirror, tears unshed as he fought back the urge to raise his voice higher. He was growing impatient for more, which is exactly how England liked it. Having removed his clothing, he wasn't ashamed of nudity it was natural after all. Soft gasps escaping his lips as pleasure rushed through his body, his body screaming out for more, the fire burning inside of him waiting to be dulled. He wanted to bite his lips to restrain himself, he never wanted anyone to see him like this aside from England. Though he flirted and loved to tease others, he respected the privacy of others and their comfort zones. But nobody would hear them out here, nobody would disturb this moment.

England was fingering France's ass in amusement, watching the latter shiver and squirm under his touch as easily as playing an instrument. Making sure not to go too fast, he wanted to tease France as much as possible. Rubbing himself as he did so, hearing France's sweet moans of passion, his face flushed. He looked so painfully beautiful, angelic even, like a living artwork that he would imprint into his memory and remember for years to come. A hot mess unravelling for his own eyes, plenty of nations had their assumptions of their relationship with one another. Most wouldn't expect someone such as France to be a bottom, only he got to see this side of France, such a sweet sight. This was a private show that he could appreciate by himself. His own green eyes were glazed over with delight, a gleam of possessiveness dancing in them. This man was his soulmate, his life partner and his beloved, the man who completed his life and brought meaning to his life. As much as France annoyed him at times, they shared intelligent conversations, past memories, nostalgia and a strong bond. He knew all of France's weaknesses, all of his sweet spots, how to play him like an instrument. His punk side coming to the surface, a dormant fragment of his personality coming to light. He leaned up slowly to sink his teeth into France's neck, biting his neck possessively, France whining at the gesture. He left the mark, drawing a little blood from the gesture, licking it after he was done, he wanted to mark France as his own "You look so beautiful pet, utterly perfect" he teased.

France glared at England with silent frustration, he was messing with him and he was enjoying riling him up. God he loved England it drove him crazy, but he wasn't about to let him have his own way. He knew how to get his own back on England and that was the last thing either of them wanted right now. He wanted more than England's fingers "Give… it… to me…. Angleterre… your dick" he growled. If he had to he would pin him to this chair and do the job himself, he couldn't wait any longer to get what he wanted.

England smirked indulgently at watching France, god his husband was so cute when he begged. How easy it was to make him lose his mind to pleasure and melt like warm butter beneath his fingers. He knew how to mess him up good, how to make him an honest, stammering mess of passions. "What love?... I can't hear you" he teased. France growled in frustration, clicking his teeth as his patience grew thinner. He knew he was winning this game and he hated that England was being so smug, but more so that it made him even sexier. The true colours of England were coming to light, his gentleman persona fading away, his perverse dominant nation as a pirate and punk.

He gripped England's collar tightly, then reached lower to stroke his dick playfully. Two could play at this game and he would be sure to teach England a lesson for thinking he could make him beg so easily. No, he would make England obey him and give him what he wanted. England inhaling as France paid attention to his little England, not expecting the tables to be turned so easily. England wasn't the only person with magic fingers, he knew how to make nations fall to their knees with lust. "I want you inside me damn it" he snapped, he couldn't wait anymore. He hated to appear so pathetic but this was the effect of his feelings for England and the skills of the perverted ambassador.

England felt himself getting harder in his jeans, he had loosened France up enough to make it comfortable, he was perfectly wet and it wouldn't cause him any discomfort or pain. He was nothing but a tentative lover who wanted to make this a memorable experience. He then removed his fingers from France, the latter whimpering at the loss of contact, for all he complained he had been enjoying himself. He took a deep breath as he prepared himself, slowly sliding himself into France. Shivers of pleasure running through him as he felt France squeezing him. France whined as England's member filled him up completely, he felt so good inside, like he was going out of his mind. England felt much better than his fingers, his voice trembling as he felt new waves of pleasure rush through him. Slowly he began to move rhythmically atop England, beginning to pick up the pace, watching England's face warp into pleasure and then amusement. He was enjoying this, he loved watching France dance atop him like this. England responded to his lover's movements, slowly increasing his speed, moving faster inside of his France. A smirk appearing on his face, this moment was a blessing, a precious moment of love and trust. Being reminded of why he and France chose each other, god his husband was so adorable it hurt. He wanted to kiss him so much.

"Angleterre.. ah… you… feel… ah… so good" France moaned. There was a reason England was infamous with his title, his skills were renowned, capable of rivalling the Italy brothers, himself and Spain alone. Though he joked about it, having a husband who knew how to please you was never a burden. He leaned back in his seat, gripping the chair for support as he moved his hips up and down. He felt as though he may go crazy, his head was spinning as though he was floating through the clouds. England reached up to cup his husband's chest and squeeze his nipples, slowly running his fingers across France's abdomen, admiring his formed muscles with pride. Stroking France's penis for further stimulation, he would never ignore France's needs. He squeezed and rubbed, making sure Francis was pleased, he would sleep well tonight that much was assured. He couldn't complain about his skills in the sack. France soon leaned forward, wrapping his arms around England's neck, pulling himself closer to his husband. He wanted to be touched more, he wanted to feel even closer to him. England's eyes burning through him, making him feel naked emotionally, as though he was see-through, all his secrets were pouring out of him. Hitting his prostate at a different angle, he could feel himself reaching his peak, everything building up, he kept moaning, his body beginning to shudder.

"That's it love, come for me" England cooed, he could sense that France was close. He was clenching him tighter, his stomach building in a knot, soon he would reach his orgasm. He wanted to see that beautiful expression France made when he came, that feeling of pleasure that felt like a high. The comedown of laughter, dizziness and awkwardness of bliss that came with aftersex. He wanted to see that side of France, to see how good he made him feel. France's eyes shot open wide, that sultry voice of England's sending him over the edge. That accent, that pet name, how he knew how to tease him so good. England knew how to lure him in with sweet bait and lead him into a honey trap and make his body sing. He was seeing stars, angels and even possibly England's imaginary friends, gripping the seat, squeezing onto England like a vice. His head snapping back, letting his feelings wash over him in waves. His breathing heavy, his body now feeling light as a feather, weak yet heavy. His body still trembling in after effect, coming down from his orgasm high.

England fell back on his chair with a heavy groan, his body heavy from the weight of his orgasm. He had indeed been correct to follow his urges, this had been the most satisfying ending to a day out with his husband. France hadn't complained and enjoyed every minute of it, his bashfulness hiding his true feelings. Then again they could read each other like a book. Laughing weakly as he reflected on the moment, he felt so satisfied, so content, so blissfully happy. Nothing could ruin his mood "God… Francis…." he panted. The two gazed at each other in a moment of silence, a look of shared tenderness on their faces. The glow of the moment warming their hearts, their affections for one another mutually communicated. England reflecting on how France had never looked so beautiful, France reflecting on how England was cockier than ever but he still loved him. England reached out to brush some of France's hair from his face, he could watch him for hours. Sitting here and simply watching his husband until time itself stopped, this comfort he felt whenever he was around him. The two then shared another tender kiss, England cupping his cheek delicately, France still lazily holding England from his position.

"Je t'aime Angleterre" Francis whispered upon his husband's lips. He was an ass at times and could be difficult, but no relationships were easy or perfect, hard work and dedication was how they made it last so long. Raising Canada and America together, proud of their sons, their sweet family.

"I love you too frog" England teased. The three words he loved most of all, the words that lay on his tongue, weighed on his mind and lingered in his heart. The words that carried such value.

* * *

France slowly began to dress, tying his hair back into its usual ponytail as he covered himself from the cold. It was certainly refreshing to have such passionate lovemaking with his husband spontaneously. Although a night shower would be welcomed when they got home, sleeping in sweat was not something he planned on doing. He had always prided himself in his personal hygiene and self care, always being the epitome of classy and charming. But he had moments of imperfection and this was one of those times. The scent of England lingering on his skin, the memory of his hands roaming over his body making him blush. The sweet words that echoed in his ears, teasing him to the point of begging, England really knew how to play games.

England sat lazily in his seat, his shirt buttoned and jeans did up, the window cracked open to let some air in. He felt utterly content, he couldn't stop smirking as the memory danced in his mind. How he had France wrapped around his finger, how France held his heart in his hands. Enjoying the quiet ambience of the music still playing, truly setting the mood for the moment. A cigarette hung lightly in his fingers as he enjoyed an occasional puff, it was a habit he had picked up from his pirate and punk years. Enjoying a smoke post sex, though it had been a long time since he had craved one this badly.

"Mon Dieu, that was…" France stammered shakily, he couldn't form the correct words to describe how he felt. His body was still singing, his hands were still trembling. Spontaneous sex was indeed enjoyable, though it came out of nowhere it had been very much accepted. England smothering him with kisses, seductively luring him in for more like a spider in a web. England always knew what he was doing, he always knew how to get what he wanted. But his sex appeal was never fully understood unless you experienced it in person.

"Bloody hot" England chuckled, France could barely speak. He was still in shock, he was still post orgasm high and in bliss. Watching France beg, cry and fall apart under his touch was something he never got bored of. France was a masochist who loved being humiliated despite his complaints about being teased. Despite being an older nation, he was a capable of acting incredibly childishly. But he had always loved those things about France, how cute he got when he was being teased, how hot and bothered he got when he talked dirty to Francis. But more so that he seemed to become even more beautiful when these things were happening to him.

France blushed but nodded in agreement, that had been the hottest sex they had experienced in a while. When Arthur's punk persona came to surface, his playful, arrogant and charming side came out. His silver tongue knowing exactly how to get under your skin. Yes people teased him for marrying England, how they were the perverted pair. But they respected each other, they embraced each others flaws. England always brought him vases of fresh flowers despite his denial of it. France enjoyed spoiling him with homemade cooking and welcoming him home in an apron. Having passionate sex just added to the many benefits of being in love. There were parts of England's personality in which he was wary, timid of and even disliked, but even England felt the same about parts of his own personality. Neither were perfect and equally flawed.

England peered curiously at France, even dishevelled with bed hair after sex he still looked gorgeous. He doubted France could ever appear imperfect, there was no possible way for him to ever look ugly. But he wanted to spoil his husband, he wanted to pamper him with all the affections he deserved. "You aren't cold are you pet?" he asked cautiously, though they would be warmed up after their intercourse, their veins would soon contract and their lack of clothing would allow them to cool faster and become colder. The last thing he wanted was for France to develop a head cold or the likes because he was careless. Maybe their was a 24 hour cafe open in which they could grab a hot drink to warm up.

France shifted, wrapping himself in his warmer clothing "Non, I am content, though I wouldn't recommend driving with an open window" he chuckled. Not many people were aware of his affectionate side of England. The softer nature of the Englishman that indeed was that of a gentleman. Not many were aware of it, Japan, himself and Canada. Though depending on their loyalty and treatment of him, he didn't allow them to see this side of him out of self defence. But that made him special, because those people were far and few between.

England hummed, airing out the car wasn't a bad idea, but the sweat on their skin would cause them to cool off faster. So he would soon close the window and then continue the journey back home. The lie in come the next morning would be pleasant, simply sharing pillow talk for many hours before finally deciding to be responsible and do something with their day. He tapped his cigarette slowly discarding accumulated ash, he peered at France's neck, the red inflammation caused by his bite now evident on France's neck. He hadn't meant to bite that hard, he just got lost in the moment, which he was guilty of on numerous occasions. "It doesn't hurt much does it?" he asked fondly.

France blinked, wondering if he was referring to his body, England was an avid believer in aftercare "Non, I am fine" he reassured him. He would be able to walk just fine on his own, he wasn't in any physical pain. He had been able to clean himself off and England hadn't caused him any discomfort. Though sticky and sweaty, such things were natural. Though he could berate England for being such a sadist, teasing him way too much, he hadn't done anything he didn't like. If he sensed France was uncomfortable he respected his decisions.

England chuckled, he wasn't referring to that, though he was glad to know France wasn't hurt. He would be sure to run them both a hot bath when they got home to clean off. "Well pet, I was referring to when I bit you while you were enjoying yourself" he chuckled. He had rather sharp teeth that could do a lot of damage, it came with the free healthcare of his nation. Though they had appeared to have drawn some blood from France, which he hadn't planned on doing. It would sting for a while as the skin healed itself.

France blushed, he had been so lost in the moment the pain of the bite had been dulled, now that he was self-aware, he remembered being bitten. He absentmindedly touched his neck and pulled his clothes up to hide the mark, not that he was ashamed but he had suddenly become more self aware. There was the possibility that someone would see it and ask personal questions in which he would rather keep private "Eh… I…. it stings but… I can cope" he babbled nervously.

England smiled, leaning across to kiss France softly, gazing at him with a gentle but flirtatious gaze. He loved this man so bloody much it hurt, sometimes he would never believe how lucky he was. How this man had stayed by his side through all these centuries through thick and thin, someone who understood him best of all. "So long as you're sure" he replied. He then began to fasten his shirt and pull a jumper over himself, preparing to restart their journey home

**Author's Note:**

> UKFR for the win


End file.
